


A New Type Of Client

by SrebrnaFH



Series: Srebrna's Sherlock AUs [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Because it's Infinity War, Deaths are referenced, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrebrnaFH/pseuds/SrebrnaFH
Summary: Sherlock is in depression and a new client comes to seek his help.





	A New Type Of Client

The man is tall, very tall. Very blonde. Very muscled.

Sherlock can’t be arsed to care.

“I require your aid in seeking my brother” the man says in that slightly pompous and stiff way he had been displaying ever since he had bullied his way to 221B. “Tall, slim. Black hair a bit longer than to his shoulders. Pointy chin. Blue eyes. Gets angry really quick if someone annoys him. Lately presumed dead, but I  _know_  he survived.”

Sherlock doesn’t really care.

“Despite him being my adopted sibling, I care for him as if we truly shared blood. My esteemed parents… They have passed away. Our eldest sister is similarly lost to us. He is the only family I have.”

Sherlock thinks about snorting derisively, but can’t find energy to do so.

“I have been directed to your abode by some of my dear friends” the man continues, playing with his black umbrella - and Sherlock really wishes he had eaten something today, because then he would have energy enough to take that umbrella and smack the man across the head for reminding him of… he shrugs. “They have informed me that you are the best in this land when it comes to dealing with… mysteries of that kind.”

“No” Sherlock utters before he can stop himself.

The man cocks his head slightly to the left.

“Does this mean you are not willing to undertake the task, or are you denying that you are the best for that purpose?”

Sherlock closes his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Both” he finally grates out.

The tall, blonde man (Scandinavian, probably Norwegian, dressed casually and yet with an umbrella rather than a rain jacket, weird choice, shoes bear no mud splatter, there has been no rain today, so affectation rather than an actual need, the accent isn’t clearly foreign, his pronunciation is nearly perfect, but carries a… slight something that suggests the way he was taught was not by a native speaker, his phrasing and word order certainly formal and rather artificial; very muscled, doesn’t go to a gym, probably works manually, hands calloused, distinct gait of a fighting man, always slightly tense, as if prepared for an attack, familiar, familiar, too familiar!) looks around the room, taking in the decor.

The empty chair (he is standing).

The brightly coloured books on the shelves.

The little backpack in tartan pattern.

The shorter jacket on the hook by the door.

The even shorter blue raincoat on a lower hook.

He is observant, Sherlock has to give it to him, as the man takes a long - impossibly long - stride to the shelf and picks up a framed photo.

“If you help me to find my brother” the man says slowly. “I can… I can bring you to the people who will help you to recover your loved ones” the huge, meaty hand squeezes the umbrella handle as if it was a weapon. “I know about your losses, Sherlock Holmes. I know you had been affected rather hard by the recent… events. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a half of all that lived…”

“I’ve lost all of them” Sherlock feels himself almost turning inside out as he says it. “All. Of. Them.”

The client replaces the photo frame on the shelf and turns to him.

“Come with me, friend” he says unexpectedly softly. “Come and help me find my brother and I will not rest until we have brought all of yours back to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't stop myself.


End file.
